Musings of a Traveling Photographer

During my time in Dehradun I spent most of my time working with my two non-profits, Laxman Ram and Latika Roy – both of which I’ll share more about in a later post – but there have also been other little adventures that’ve popped up along the way.  For example, one morning I went down to the train station with Barbara and Joseph to create some photos at sunrise (some of those photos can be seen in the previous post), and another day I visited the home of two deaf students from one of the schools I was photographing at (a photo profile I’ll share later).

Two Fridays ago, just before bed, we got a call in our hotel room from our Indian liaison/cultural guide/all-around good guy, Ahbay, saying that there was a wedding procession that had just passed our hotel.  So, in good photojournalist fashion we grabbed our cameras and rushed out the door.  Unfortunately, the procession wasn’t still as close as it sounded, so we started running in the direction of the sound.  Eventually, after running for a few minutes and not being sure if we’d get there in time, we caught a tuk tuk (auto rickshaw) and raced on our way.  It would have been impossible for us to not have seen the wedding once we got there; the street was literally full of people.  At the front was a huge sound system on wheels, amplifying the words of the Indian wedding singer who walked along at the front.  On each side of the crowd were men banging drums, and others playing their brass instruments.  In the middle was a huge group of men dancing and shouting, followed by a group of ladies doing the same:

They even pulled Barbara and I in for the dancing:

At the very back the groom was riding on a horse, adorned in a beautifully embroidered Sherwani – an expensive and ornate traditional wedding suit:

When he arrived at the hotel, the Bride’s father and uncles were there to welcome him and his family to the celebration:

We received an invitation from the bride’s brother to join them for the wedding, so we followed the groom inside, and the party began.  The DJ kicked up the music to keep the dancing going, while some just sat in chairs to observe the ceremony, and many others started eating.  There were hors d’oeuvres being passed in the main room, a buffet of Indian snacks outside, another long table with desserts, and a two huge buffet lines of food in another room.  The bride wasn’t there yet, but the groom began with the Hindu wedding ceremony traditions:

About 30 minutes later, once the groom was done with his part, the bride showed up with her sisters and friends.  They walked her down the aisle and sat next to her groom, as some people watched and others continued to party:

Then, after they each hung a lei around the other’s neck, their photographers and videographers stepped in to take photos of them with their families.  It was a really great experience to see an Indian wedding, especially as a wedding photographer.  There were many parts that were just straight up fun, and I loved that the overall feel was more of a celebration throughout, even with all of it’s ceremony.  What’s funny is that it actually made American weddings seem much more formal and traditional, except for one BIG fact, that in most Indian weddings the bride and groom don’t show any affection to one another:  no hugging, kissing, or even holding hands.  Because most weddings here are still arranged, it’s actually very common that the bride and groom barely even know each other at their own wedding.  In fact, some couples don’t even meet each other until their wedding day, which, other than the modesty of Indian culture, would explain why they aren’t so affectionate.  Anyway, once the photographers began taking the family portraits we decided to step out, but I’m told that the bride and groom typically end up partying with their guests until very early in the morning.

We actually ended up crashing two other weddings while we were there.  Apparently Dehradun is one of the most popular places to get married, because the weather is so nice this time of year.  Also, we were staying on Rajpur Road, which has quite a few nice hotels where the weddings are typically held.

I arrived in Delhi at 9:00 p.m., and went though the usual airport procedures.  Immigration and customs were similar to every other international airport, if not more relaxed.  It wasn’t until stepping outside the airport that the shock of being in a foreign culture began to sink in.  Just outside the doors to the airport stood hundreds of people watching and waiting for their friends, family, and clients who had just arrived.

I met a very nice Kiwi girl about my age on the airplane, sitting across the aisle from me.  We shared stories, music, and photos; watched our first Bollywood movie, and shared our excitement about traveling in India for the first time.  We had determined that her hotel was near to the one I was staying, and she offered to have her hotel taxi drop me off.

The driving that ensued was similar to the experience I’ve had in other undeveloped countries:  wildly dodgy, lots of honking, and no seat belts.  As we started to get out of the more industrial area, we came into a very ramshackle area of town.  The streets were dark and dirty, and only a few people were outside, huddled around the small fires they had lit on the side of the street.  I commented to Shelley, my new Zealand friend, that this looked like a pretty dodgy part of town, only moments later to find out that was where I would be staying.

When the driver let me out of the cab, he pointed down a dark narrow alley, but I saw no sign of the hotel.  I was wondering if there had been a miscommunication, because he didn’t seem to speak much English.  Then a man came out of the shadows and introduced himself as Smiley, owner of the hotel.  He proceeded to lead me back into the alley, as I tightly clutched my bags and wondered if we were really headed where he said.  As we entered through the door, the place looked cluttered, and didn’t match my image of any sort of hotel or hostel.  It could have been someone’s living room (and might have been), but I was relieved to see a westerner sitting on one of the couches with his laptop out.

Smiley proceeded to show me to my room, which was only right around the corner from the “reception area.”  The room was fairly small, which I expected, and it had its own bathroom.  The bathroom, with its metal door that didn’t close completely, was open at the top to the alley that the “hotel” was in.  The small sink had only only a cold nob, and a hose that allowed the water to drain into the toilet, which was merely a cement hole in the ground.  The shower head came out right beside the sink, and there were buckets below it for washing.

I walked back into the room, and couldn’t figure out how to lock the door.  The only latch seemed to be on the outside, which I had a hard time understanding.  Eventually I found the latch at the very top of the door, and realized the one on the outside went with the padlock and key beside my bed (for locking the door should I leave).

Luckily everything was fairly quiet, and a good temperature (there was no heater or air conditioning, only a dirty old fan with two bare wires to be plugged into the wall), and I was so tired I fell asleep within minutes.

The rest of the night was almost like a crazy Indian dream.  I seemed to wake up every hour to phones ringing, people shouting in Hindi, dogs barking in the street (remember my room was open to the outside), and finally, loud Indian dance music being blasted in the streets with the sounds of shops opening, kids playing, and people bathing themselves in the streets.  I quite liked it actually.  This was the sort of India I had pictured in my mind, and it was completely living up to my expectations, as crazy as it was.

Slowly I got out of bed, took a quick shower, and pulled out my laptop to check my e-mail.  Right then a knock came on the door.  Apparently I had set my clock wrong by one hour and I was running late to meet Shelley at her hotel for lunch.  I quickly tried calling her hotel, but they said she had left.  So, I threw my bags on, quickly paid my $8 hotel bill, and ran out the door into a bustling Indian bazaar.  It was a complete transformation from what I had seen the previous night, and I tried my best to take it all in as I ran to find the Smile Hotel.

(Sorry, no photos yet.  Things have been a bit crazy, and I haven’t had any free time, but I’ll be starting my assignment in two days, and I’ll let you know who the non-profits are I’ll be working with in the next post.)

The path I took to photography was never really an obvious one, and I often reminisce on how I got here.  When I look back, I see a series of small steps, none of them monumental, but each one significant.   This leads me to believe that the “here” I’m at is really just another step on my way “there” (wherever there is .  I think it’s also just a feeling I’m used to having – the same one I had my freshman year of college when I realized I wasn’t meant to be a computer programmer – perhaps even a quest for significance.  So, this trip to Asia… it’s a step.

Because my job is so heavily focused on the summer months, it allows me the flexibility to do things I wouldn’t normally do during the winter.  That fact, coupled with my desire to serve others in a significant way, made me start to wonder how I can use my photography toward that end.  So, just over a year ago I started praying for the opportunity to work with a non-profit, creating a photo story for them that they can use to communicate what it is they do (a necessary component of fund and support raising).  I e-mailed several organizations, but didn’t get a response from any.  I figured it was possibly because I don’t have any experience with that kind of work, but I kept praying about it, because I really wanted to find a way to use my photography for the greater good.

In April I was contacted by a couple who was interested in having me photograph their wedding, and in our conversations I came to find out that they are both photojournalists.  They have considerable experience (he travelled with George W. Bush on his surprise visit to Iraq on Christmas Eve, and she is the president of the Women Photojournalists of Washington, and is a regular speaker at photography conferences), and they run something called the Momenta Group (he’s the founder, and they are the contracted photographers for European Union events in D.C.).  Further, Momenta Group operates Momenta Workshops (www.momentaworkshops.com), of which she is the director.  Needless to say, they’re a great couple to be connected to, and on top of that they’re two of the most down to earth, genuinely nice people I’ve met.  So, in our e-mails, I mentioned that I would love to go on one of their workshops, and they suggested that we make a trade (a fantastic idea!).  To make a long story short, I photographed their wedding last July, and they are paying for me to attend the workshop titled, “Project India 2011:  Photography as a Force for Change.”  Could that be any more perfect?!

I’m writing this on a flight to Tokyo, which is just one of several stops on my trip.  Tonight I’ll stay in Hong Kong, and tomorrow I’ll fly in to Delhi for the workshop.  I’ll be in India for three weeks, the first two of which I’ll be attending the workshop (I’ll give you more details later, including my non-profit assignment), and the third week I’ll just be exploring on my own (thinking about visiting the Taj Mahal, and the Gandhi Memorial).  After that I’m on my way to Japan to visit my brother Dillon, where he’s studying abroad.  Then him and I will head to Hong Kong, where we’ll take a 36 hour train ride into China to visit our friend Ryan in Chengdu.  Overall my trip is about 2 months long, and I’m just beginning the journey.

I wasn’t sure I was going to start a blog for this trip, but I think I realized I would regret not recording such a unique adventure.  I’ve kept journals on a few others (Ethiopia and Japan), but they’ve never been anything I’ve shared with anyone (other than a few excerpts here and there).  I blogged for my business for about a year, but in all honesty it ended up being too much pressure.  I always felt like I needed to “perform” for clients, even though the point of my blog was to make me more relatable and personal to them (backwards thinking, I know).  I definitely wouldn’t say any of it was a lie, but I was definitely presenting “the best of,” which of course is what I want to give my clients.  All this to say, this blog is not and will not be that.  What I hope it will be is four things: (1) an opportunity for me to digest some of the unique experiences, sights, and opportunities I’ll be taking in; (2) a chance for friends and family to adventure with me; (3) a place for fellow and would-be travelers to find inspiration and ideas; and (4) a way for me to share (hopefully decent) photos with anyone who has either an interest in photography, or is just curious about any of the places I’m traveling to.  If any of those things catch your interest, I invite you to follow along…